Beyond the Veil of Demise
by Dinathiel
Summary: This is my story... A story about how I, Harry Potter, died for Ginny Weasley and the world... How I linger among the realm of the living, unable to talk or touch the ones I love....
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, bah humbug!

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_                                            Hello, my name is Harry Potter…_

_                    Many people, friend and foe alike, know me as the Boy who lived…_

_                             But as of now, People know me as the Boy who died…_

_                                         And I think that I'm alright with that…_

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_I always knew that one day I was going to die. I knew that either way, if it be by the hand of the dark lord Voldemort, or by the passing of time, I would someday be dead… That's because everyone who is anyone has to die… Whether a person likes it or not, welcomes it or not, everyone who was once born has to die. You enter this world, but you have to soon leave it. As soon as you are born, you're already in the slow path of demise._

_Some fear it, some do not. Some like myself did not fear it, but nor did I welcome it…_

_You know, some people say that when you die, it's all over. Everything that you were is finished, done, gone… But that's where people are ignorant because they have never once tasted death. People, who say that, if they be Wizard or Muggle, are only frightened. So frightened to let go of a life that was so dear to heart and soul. But in reality, when a person dies, it's only the start of a new beginning. It's like the starting of a new morning, where you have the whole day ahead of you, consisted of different and diverse paths. _

_It's where you soar through durations of galaxies and time, each minute, each second but a lifetime in the blink of an eye. Through tunnels and holes, beginnings and ends, Alphas and Omegas… You don't even need a broomstick to do it, because you are the sky, the winds, the stars, the moon, the night. You become everything, everything all at once. You are nameless, undistinguished and alien, but then you are even the impossible. But, there is only one thing that you are not when traveling through this endless journey to the other side… and that is the living…_

_I know how it was to live, breathing and feeling every day… Even though I still feel, I do not breathe, I do not eat. I'm just sort of there where no one could find or see me, not even hear me. I guess you're wondering, do I like being dead? I really can't answer that question because I both love and hate it. Death is where you can no longer feel pain or gain, just peace while soaring perpetually through the universes. Death is hateful because you are leaving behind parts and spaces of you that can no longer be filled. You loose the winds of change and chance. Only by the presence of those who once held a special place in your heart can a person be completed once more._

_                                                                       Ginny…Oh, my beloved Ginny…_

_                                                                                       Ron…_

_                                                                                     Hermione…_

_How I died, you ask? Do you really want to know? Nay, I did not die at the receiving end of Lord Voldemort's brother phoenix core wand. I died because I chose it. I died because I had to. I had chosen this path or else the dark lord would have swept across the wizarding world, leaving his mass veil of devastation and carnage, smiting genocide upon all the free peoples. I died for the people. I died for my family and friends. But most importantly, I died for my love. _

_                                                                                I died for Ginny…_

_                                                                        And for her, I accepted it…_

_Still want to know my story? Still curious? Alright then… I'll tell you my story. A story about how I planned to defeat the dark lord. A story where I planned to die for the sake of Ginny Weasley and my two best friends. A story how I was dead but lingered among the living. And lastly, a story where I was the sacrifice. _

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A/N: well, I certainly hoped that you liked the beginning. This was the only chapter that was spoken like Harry's diary. The rest will be third person. R&R!


	2. Promise

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from J.K's Harry Potter.

The following beginning of this chapter is in both Remus Lupin's P.O.V. and Harry Potters.

Wotcher! I give mucho kudos to the kind folks who already gave me those very kind reviews!

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_                                                 You ever wonder how it is that you are going to die?_

_               Homicide? Suicide? Ripe old age? No one really knows how they are going to die until it happens…_

_                                                     That is, everyone except the Boy who Lived…_

_                                                          But the enigma is, did he want to die?... _

_                                        Does he have a reason why he wanted to die of his own free will?..._

_                                                           There's something called Sacrifice, _

_              And in the wizarding world it's a choice that a person takes when they are willing to die for a cause…_

_                                        And in Harry Potter's case that cause is for the ones he loves…_

_                                                         And for them, he would save the world…_

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_Flashback_

_"Harry, we have been searching for hours… Its late, and I reckon that you should get some sleep." Mumbled an exasperated Remus Lupin from his seat across the oak wood table. Seventeen year old Harry Potter looked back at the shabbily dressed werewolf from beneath his long, jet-black fringe. His startling green eyes blinked sleepily, exhaustion etched into deep lines upon his forehead. The stressed lines made the questionable lightening bolt scar branded on his head stand out all the more conspicuously. _

_"But Remus, it has to be here somewhere, it just has to be… Let me finish with this one volume and then I promise to go back to Gryffindor tower." Harry pleaded, his fingers lingering upon the massive book open before him. The two wizards sat alone among the many ancient tomes of the restriction section in the Hogwarts library. The myriad of towering book shelves created a veil of shadow over their table, and the half moon shone like a gleaming beacon in the night sky. It had to be __midnight__ at the castle, perhaps even later? _

_All evening and night had Harry Potter and Remus Lupin been secretly exploring the depths of the restricted section in the library, intent on finding one particular page. A page that could be the only answer to all the misery and despair reining among the wizarding world. That one page could mean the salvation of wizard and muggle kind alike from the ever approaching doom commenced by the dark lord Voldemort. The serpentine dark wizard was bent on his ambition of taking the world into the palm of his hand, every being and every creature under his absolute control. The secrets that remained hidden, but were being sought for by Harry, could mean an end to the chaos._

_"Alright, one more book, but then its straight to bed after." Relented Remus, with a pointed expression. Harry could not help but snort at his friend's admonition. He sounded almost like Molly Weasley just then, ordering him to go to bed after a hard day. Ever since Remus Lupin had taken upon the task of being Harry's new guardian, he had been doing everything in his utter power to make up for James and Sirius, both passed souls who could not do what fathers and godfathers needed to do for a growing boy like Harry. It still pained him, even then, to be taking the place of two men that meant so much to Harry. Ever since learning about the prophecy from the department of mysteries, he was determined to find any thing that might help Harry Potter take one step forward to defeating Voldemort. The only person that was perhaps even working harder than Remus to help Harry was red-haired Ginny Weasley._

_A dream had come to Harry one night months ago. A dream about a spell, a spell in particular that lead him to think was the very key to defeating the dark lord. He had never really put much faith in divination, like Harry and his friends; he thought it to be nothing but rubbish. But there was a nagging feeling that was mutual between all those who knew the boy who lived. A nagging feeling that the questionable dream was anything but rubbish. Ever since the dream, the order was set on finding anything that could relate to what spell Harry had seen. Hermione Granger had been especially earnest and vehement in her trips to the library to help out the cause. _

_Remus__ let his calculating gaze land on the jet-black haired Gryffindor researching across from him. His dark brows were furrowed in concentration over the top of his round wire-rimmed glasses as he searched. He had seen that expression many a time upon Lily's face._

_"Find anything?" He asked a moment later. _

_"No… Nothing at all…" Replied Harry in a resigned whisper. His brows were furrowed angrily, his lips pursed in an agitated frown. Remus could not help but sigh in disappointment, his hopes deflating like a balloon. Then in a swift growl and sweep, Harry's quidditch-callused hand had knocked the book off the table. It landed with a resounding crash, causing the werewolf to glance warily at the young man. His temper was very short as of late, he noted. But he could understand. He could understand what it was for this boy to be sitting there trying to find the answer to his problems while more people were getting killed everyday at the hand of his mortal enemy. An enemy that only he could kill…_

_One will murder… the other will be murdered… _

_The book that crashed to the stone floor fell open, the pages fluttering in a whisper. Remus leaned back in his chair with another sigh as he watched Harry bend down to pick up the book. _

_Harry reached forward to pick up the offending, vain book that bared no answers to him when he froze, his green eyes glued to the open page. Familiar words were looking back at him from upon the page. _

_'Priscus Piaculum' _

_Remus's__ gray eyes narrowed with suspicion as Harry's outstretched hand froze midair, his eyes locked on the book lying innocently upon the stone floor of the library. There was something almost eerie about how the silver light of the high moon cast the book into a ghostly luminescence.  _

_******_

_The two words seemingly jumping off the page before him continued to beat into his mind, over and over until he found his suddenly dry lips soundlessly moving with them in unison. These words, so familiar, so familiar… He had seen them before, heard them before. Not aloud among the realm of reality but in his dreams. Not just any dream, but **the** dream… The dream that had shown him the seemingly only possible spell that could defeat Voldemort. 'Priscus Piaculum' yes… this was it! This was the spell that he and the others have spent countless hours searching for. Grabbing the book off the floor, He slammed it down in front of him, much to Remus' dismay, and let his eyes roam eagerly down the text._

**_'Priscus Piaculum, meaning "ancient sacrifice", was perhaps one of the most potent spells of the globe in the 18th century of _****_Europe_****_. Despite its potency, the caster would no doubt have to pay a terrible price indeed to utter the incantation, death itself. Because of the spells massive cause of casualties in the Franco-Prussian war, many believed Napoleon III to be a wizard in secret, the spell has been sought to be declared illegal by the MWP (Magic Wizard Parliament). No such documents have been found to prove its warrant of prohibition. _**

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**_The spell, Priscus Piaculum, is as follows: Ego Proventus Mei Piaculum_**

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**_Readers should take heed of warning if they so choose to utter this lethal incantation. The spell has been used by many noble witch and wizard alike to defeat dark wizards, but not without sacrificing their own life to end the other, thus the name 'Priscus Piaculum'. One cannot live while the other dies when the spell is properly cast. The effects have been proved fatal by the Ministry of Magic; Committee on Experimental Charms_ _and the Department of Magical accidents and Catastrophes in 1882. _**

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**_The spell itself, while its mechanics are still an enigma to wizard kind, is said to only be useful by those who are pure of heart and willing to forsake their life so that their enemies are defeated. The use of Sacrifice in magical war became popular in the mid 18th century, mostly in _****_France_****_ and _****_Russia_****_ until around 1897. The sacrifice, combined with ancient magic, are said to only work if the caster is completely certain with the decision to end his or her own life. Feelings of uncertainty will be the failure of such a spell and can be quite dangerous nonetheless. _**

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**_Studies have proven that there is only one way to bring back the pure who sacrificed themselves before they successfully pass through the other world, and that is self renunciation by those in possession of the former casters blood. The resurrection of a 'Priscus Piaculum' caster has never before happened in wizarding history. _**

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_Harry stared blankly back at the page, an obstinate sense of numbness filling his body. The ominous passage about Priscus Piaculum glared painfully back at the Gryffindor who was finding it difficult to inhale his next breath while the words pounded into his mind, his soul. '**One cannot live while the other dies**' How similar those exact words were to that one line of Professor Trelawney's prophecy 'One cannot live while the other survives'. It was balefully uncanny…This was what he had dreamed of, and now he knew the truth. Now he knew what he must do to save the world from the summon of the apocalypse by Lord Voldemort, Formerly Tom Marvolo Riddle. _

_If Voldemort had to die, so did he… One could not live while the other dies… _

_Harry sat back in his seat, unseeingly, his hands falling into his lap as a bitter laugh began to rise in his throat.__ Remus who was still watching him intently grabbed the book from the table and brought it to his eyes in the dim light to read. As he roved over the passage, the werewolf distantly felt his lax mouth go dry, and his breath quicken. Dropping the fateful book back onto the surface of the table as if he had been burned, he turned his gaze on Harry who then chose the moment to look back up at him. That's where he saw it. He saw it glittering painstakingly in his green eyes. Green eyes exactly like Lily Potters were when she accepted self sacrifice to save her beloved baby boy. Green eyes like when she was found dead…_

_Acceptance… Determination… _

_Remus__ pitched himself halfway across the table and grabbed Harry roughly by the shoulders. No surprisingly, Harry didn't look shaken by this, only sad._

_"Harry, no… I won't let you do this. I forbid you to even **think** about casting this spell…" Remus hissed, his grey eyes alight with protest. Deep inside him, panic bordered with desperation began to resurface. No, he would not let Harry Potter choose his fate. He would not let the only last Potter sacrifice himself to defeat the dark lord. There had to be something else, anything else to stop Voldemort. There had to be another way! Ignoring his conscious that reminded him that this most likely was the only way to stop He-who-must-not-be-named, he waited for any sort of response from Harry. When he got none, he spoke to the young man in a dead whisper. Even so, Remus' voice seemed to echo around them._

_"How could you consider this, Harry?... Do you even realize who you would hurt if you went through with this?" He asked, fury masking his face. There was a brief moment of painful silence before Harry finally responded._

_"But, Remus, imagine how many more people will be hurt if Voldemort is not stopped. One life to stop him is a little price for the whole world to survive, you know that…" _

_Remus__ did know that Harry's words were indeed true. So terrible, but so true… One life to end Voldemorts would be nothing short of a small price for the survival of wizard and muggle kind. But there had to be another way, any other way…How could he just sit there and let this one boy seal his fate. How could he just sit there and let Harry give up his life? What disturbed him greatly was the fact that Harry talked of dying so readily and easily. Almost as if he had been expecting it to come sooner or later. Licking his starch dry lips, the last marauder spoke again._

_"Imagine what your death would do to everyone who loves you Harry… Why would you intentionally hurt Ron and Hermione… The Weasleys…" He paused. "Ginny…" At the mention of Harry's lover, his green eyes visibly darkened with anger. Remus knew that it wasn't fair to bring any of them into it, especially Ginny, but they would be the ones affected emotionally by such a situation. It was important for him to understand the consequences of what he was deciding to face._

_"Don't you ever say that I would intentionally hurt Ginny… Or any of my friends for that matter!… This isn't about them; it's about me defeating Voldemort once and for all." He answered, his fingers closing tightly into defiant fists as he stared back at his friend. Remus exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose before swiping a frustrated hand over his face. The gray locks among his sandy brown hair seemed to glow in the dim moonlight. Swallowing the lump arising in his parched throat, he reached across the table and slowly took one of Harry's hands. The boy stiffened in surprise. Quietly, he looked down at their hands, one larger than the other, not able to look into the resolute, wary green eyes. _

_"Harry…" He whispered, the words lost like a passing breeze. "Talk to Dumbledore. Surely he would know something, anything at all that might help you against Voldemort without going to such measures…" He asked, still not looking the seventh year in the eye. He could feel Harry's fingers slightly tighten around his own._

_"Dumbledore cannot help me anymore, Remus.__ Nor can he protect me. His priority is to insure the survival of Hogwarts and all the students within it. And he has protected me, Remus, for the last six years. But, I'm no longer his priority anymore…" He said wearily. Remus blinked at this and finally summoned the courage to look up at Harry. Oh how much he resembled James…_

_"That's not true, Harry. While you still remain a student, you will always be the headmaster's top priority. You have your priority as well, and that is to be safe and survive." He said a bit more harshly than he meant to, his fingers continuing to tighten around Harry's unmoving hand. Both men's powerfully stemmed fingers turned a furtive shade of white mingled with red. Remus Lupin was a calm fellow; he was one never to actually be brought down to the stage of hysteria. But he could feel it start to bubble unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach as Harry continued to inflame his hopes of his own survival. It made him feel ill with trepidation. _

_The Gryffindor looked down at the oak wood table in a moment of pensive silence before quietly whispering,_

_"My only priority is to kill Voldemort, and I intend to do it…"_

_"But, Harry-" Remus began in protest._

_"No, Remus!" He exclaimed with a slam of his trembling fist on the table as he got to his feet. "I'm going to end this! I'm going to finish what I set out to do and so help me God, I'll be damned if you or anyone else is going to stop me!" He bellowed, a terrible cold fury alight in his large green orbs. He was shaking violently, the stress of the situation bearing heavily upon his already burdened shoulders. So young, but so old was Harry James Potter as he towered almost menacingly over his werewolf friend, his scar nearly flaming in the darkness of the library. For perhaps one of the first times in his life, Remus felt a shiver of fear race up his spine. The dark lord had taken so many things away from the bright youth standing before him. His parents, his godfather, his fellow students…Was the last remaining marauder next? How many more people were going to be killed and taken away from Harry before it was all ended? When was this madness going to finally be put to rest?! _

_Harry's anger seemed to finally blow over because he fell back into his chair heavily. There was a defeated, hollow expression upon his face that saddened Remus greatly. He often wondered how it was that Harry was sitting there living and breathing when facing so much. Finding out he was a werewolf had been utter devastation when Lupin was young, but Harry had faced so much more then adult wizards themselves had faced in one lifetime. By the unripe age of eleven he had already faced down what members of the Order of the __Phoenix__ could only imagine. It was very unfair. It would break Lily and James' heart to see what their only son was going through and how he was robbed of a normal existence._

_"I'm sorry, Remus…" Harry murmured after some time of tense silence between the two. _

_"You have nothing to apologize for Harry." _

_There was another few moments of heavy, question filled silence before Remus closed some of the books lying open before him. He needed counsel, and there was only one person that came to mind when seeking it. A man in renown for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald, but also so happened to enjoy the pleasure of muggle treats such as lemon drops. _

_"I think its time that you returned to Gryffindor tower. Its late and you do have classes tomorrow." Harry could only nod, his green eyes still reflecting that vivid emptiness. Getting to his feet, Remus secretly planned to speak with professor Dumbledore about Harry's reckless plan. There had to be a way to hinder the boys selfless decision, he would not let Harry give himself up so easily. Not as long as he still drew breath and cared for Harry Potter. Reaching forward to take into possession the book that controlled the boy who lived fate, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Harry was staring at him, his face an unreadable mask. But there was perhaps the briefest flicker of pain behind his gaze. One moment he was standing there stonily and then the next he had come around the table to stand aside him. _

_Then without warning, he was crushing Remus in a hug. The werewolf was both scared and surprised by this, but returned the embrace as a father would do with his son. It was not often that two men hugged, especially by a plagued person like Harry, and that was why it scared the former defense against the dark arts professor. Was this Harry saying goodbye? Remus Lupin felt certain desperateness in the way Harry was hugging him and it made his arms tighten. When a few uncertain minutes passed, he heard a soft voice speak from his shoulder. _

_"Remus?"__ He asked quietly._

_"Yes, Harry?" _

_"I'm scared." Those words felt like knives to his heart. But what was he to say in return? That everything was going to be ok? That would be a lie and Remus knew it. Nothing was ok anymore…_

_"I'm not scared of dying, Moony…" The werewolf was startled for a moment at the use of his old schoolboy nickname. Sirius had been the last one to ever utter that name, and because he was now dead, it was sacred. But he didn't feel perturbed when Harry said it. It felt distantly like ol' Prongs was talking to him again. This brought the wisp of a smile back onto his lips. When Remus gently prodded Harry to continue, his next words crumpled that smile._

_"I'm scared that I'll never see any of the people that I love ever again…" He whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He sounded broken… Broken like a defeated soldier upon the battlefield…He feared not being able to ever have another chess or Quidditch match with his fiercely loyal best mate Ron. He feared not ever being reminded to finish his assignments by an exasperated but kind hearted Hermione. He feared not ever being able to sleep under the warm crooked roof of the homely burrow. He feared that Molly Weasley would never be able to fuss needlessly with his untidy hair or Arthur Weasley would never be able to fondly show him his plug collection. He feared that he would never be able to eat another deliciously cooked meal surrounded by the whole Weasley Family on Christmas day or be able to sit in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by all of his friends. So many more people he would miss. But above all else, he feared not ever being able to love or be in the same essence as Ginny Weasley._

_Remus__' face screwed up in inner turmoil as he could nearly feel Harry's heart convulsing._

_"That won't ever happen, Harry." He said finally, his eyes drawn to the fateful book lying upon the oak wood table over Harry's shoulder. _

_"I promise…" _

_                                                                                         *******_

_                                                You wonder why beings of the world commit to others with a vow?_

_                                                 Some will arrise to it with the every true intention of fulfillment…_

_                                Some arrise to it contrary to truth and fact only to take that easy path of beguilement…_

_                                                                            I.E. lying to escape discord..._

_                                         But that vow is called a promise, and for some, the pledge will be returned... _

_                                                                      No matter what that expectation is..._

_                                                          And for Harry Potter, Moony will keep a promise..._

_                                                                                         *******_

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A/n: I know! I know! That could have probably been written better then it was, but hey! I really did try! Now why don't u all be a bunch of dears and give little ol me a review? If u do, I'll give you a cookie! Ok, well im out of cookies, what about lollipops?! 

Cheers much!


	3. Acceptance

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K's HP characters.

Thanks to all the people who have been nice enough to review me so far. I hope you like what I have going so far. I know people have been reluctant to read cause of harrys death, but hey, theres hope for him still, right?

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_                            Is there a reason why people are so willing to give themselves up?_

_                  People give themselves up when all hopes for the better have been relinquished…_

_          Crumpled into the dust to wither away into complete nothing, just like their body and souls…_

_                                       Hopes become nothing, faith becomes nothing… _

_        They become nothing more than the whisper of a memory still lingering upon a desperate mind._

_                                            All Fidelity will have descended to its grave…_

_                                       Is that why people just decide to give themselves up?_

_                But, to a boy named Harry Potter, Sacrifice suddenly gains a whole new meaning…_

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 Three days…

Three more days of breath before the plunge… Three more days before Hogwarts impenetrable grounds becomes a battlefield of the apocalypse, summoned by the final judgment… Three more days before Voldemort waged his war upon Harry Potter and the world. Lastly, three more days before Harry Potter became the sacrifice and lost the ones he loved forever…

Lucid to say, Harry James Potter was feeling both rueful and disinclined. It was only three more days before Priscus Piaculum would smite the dark lord Voldemort into ruin, but not without renouncing his own life with its magic beckoning. He had only so much time to say his farewells before his link to the living was interminably breached. But he would do it… He would deliver the wizarding world from the ever looming threats of annihilation and bondage, and no servant of the dark lord would hinder him. Not while he still had strength…  

'One cannot live while the others dies...'

A flashback of that day came to his mind.

_-"Promise me, Remus… Promise me that you won't tell anyone about this!" Harry demanded shrewdly, his fingers tight around Remus Lupin's shoulders. He could not stress the importance that no one, especially not Ron, Hermione or Ginny, know about Priscus Piaculum. They could not know… No one could know what he was going to do in three short days. Harry knew that they would stop at nothing to try and stop him from delivering Voldemorts defeat with him as the price. They would tell him, like Remus, that there must be another way that was not so reckless. They would be selfish, wanting to keep him alive at all costs while wizard kind fell into darkness all around them. Hogwarts and the Order of the __Phoenix__ had lost too many good souls already in these dark times. But this was war, and to gain victory, recklessness was imperative. Even if it would cost someone their life in the process. _

_"But,Harry!" Remus protested, his features desperate. This werewolf, this wizard… The last Marauder… He had lost his last best friend because of him. No matter how many people told him that it was not his fault, it still remained. It remained deep inside where no one could find it, not even himself. The guilt was embedded there into broken grooves of his heart that had all surfaced along the years of misery and despair. Embedded with a knife so sharp, it hurt even then. And it would continue aching like some perpetual infection until after three days. But he would let no more die because of him. This was going to end…_

_"No, Remus, you have to promise me that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone…" Harry reprimanded, his fingers unconsciously digging into Remus' shabby robes. He had to hold onto something, anything. _

_"Harry, you cannot just ask me to let your friends be unaware of this…" He said, but began speaking when Harry opened his mouth to interrupt. "Do you know what it would be like for me to see any of them mourning over your grave while I had known of your death beforehand? Do you even realize how it would affect me to know that you will die in four days and I did nothing to stop it? I just-" He broke off of his rambling to run a hand down the contours of his aging face. He had never looked so old before. "I can't do it, Harry…" Remus whispered at last, his eyes descending to the ground for he could no longer bear looking at green eyes so much like Lily Potters. _

_Harry sucked in a choked breath, the air seemingly stolen from his very lungs. Fighting against the frustrated burning behind his eyes, he slowly sunk to the stone floor. The coldness of the stone rang a shock through the skin of his kneecaps. With trembling fingers, he grabbed Remus' hands. _

_Moony's__ eyes widened as he took upon the sight before him._

_"God, Harry, please don't do this… Please don't beg this of me…" Remus murmured, his face crumpling at the desperation upon the boys face. The boy who stood on his knees… The boy of such renown, on his knees before a decrepit, lost werewolf, begging for he to let him die. No, this wasn't happening…It wasn't. How would James or Sirius react if they could see this now? How would they react to see such a boy on his knees, asking to be sacrificed? How would they bear seeing The boy who Lived begging from a monstrous creature of abomination? Looking down at the pitiful face, he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. But he would no longer be able to stop the howling misery at Harry Potter's next words._

_"Please, Remus… Please…" He pleaded in a whisper. _

_Harry watched, numb, as Remus tore his hands away from his to bury his face. Squeezing his eyes shut against the burning tears harboring in his eyes, his hands dropped to his sides and he slowly sunk down from his knees. Never had he felt this desperate. Never had he felt so weak against the onslaught of emotions running through him all at once like a wave crashing down upon his protective walls. He, as a man, was horrible. Horrible at bringing this burden upon his friend's shoulders. It was desecration to their relationship as two friends, two brothers, forever fighting for the same cause. He slowly raised his eyes to look once more up at Remus. The fingers covering his face were shaking violently. And he had brought this… A split image of Sirius' pale, Azkaban haunted face flashed in his mind. Harry almost winced. But at last, he spoke from behind his hands. _

_The words were angry, forceful. _

_"I won't let you do this, do you understand?!… This is suicide… This is madness! You need to be saved, Harry…" The werewolf bellowed, ripping his hands savagely over his damp cheeks. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed counsel. Dumbledore! Yes, Dumbledore would surely know what had to be done to stop this. Dumbledore knew everything… Without another glance at Harry's pallid, afflicted face, he grabbed his bag, and made a dash for the library door. But before he shut it behind him, he made out Harry Potter's soft voice speaking to himself._

_"I don't want to be saved anymore…" _

_It was only later that night that Remus Lupin realized Albus Dumbledore was just a man like everyone else. A man who did not know everything…A man who did not know how to save Harry Potter.-_

As Harry looked back on that day only yesterday, he could not help but feel hopeful. No one seemed to know, all was still kept in the midst of darkness and ignorance. Only Dumbledore and Remus knew, that much was obvious. Harry had a distinct feeling that Dumbledore would know exactly what he was planning even if Remus did not tell him. The headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was like that. He seemingly always knew about everything, even when it was happening. That reassured Harry, because so far it seemed as though his wise mentor was not going to make a move of hindering his sacrifice. For once, the great defeater of Grindelwald was going to stand down and let me decide his destiny. 

Harry tried not to let these thoughts plague his mind as he walked along the outline of Hogwarts Lake, his fingers laced with that of a young woman. A young woman with vibrant, fiery red hair with hues of copper, and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Seventeen year old Ginny Weasley walked beside him, blissfully unaware that she would no longer be able to hold his hand any longer after Priscus Piaculum was uttered from his lips. 

He had spent the whole day, deeply taking in everyone and everything around him. He relished and tried to remember every last scent, sound and feeling that flooded through him as he walked the stone corridors of his familiar, beloved school. This had been his home, his real home. It had been both his utopia and his hell when away every year from the Dursleys's at Privet Drive. A home where he found friendship, companionship, and love in all his seven years. It would be hard leaving it behind, but not more painful then leaving behind all the people within the fortress. It would become nothing more than a sweet memory swept away in a passing wind. 

He remembered how his morning had been when he had slowly descended the stairs from the boy's dormitory. Harry stood at the foot of the steps, taking in every miniscule detail of the Gryffindor common room. Every last thing he had wanted to remember… To the comfy red couches that he had done his myriad of assignments on, or slept on with the company of Ginny, to the roar of the dancing fire where he would secretly speak to Sirius during his fourth and fifth year. Later going down to breakfast, he would take in the vast sight of the many moving staircases, the talking portraits, and the entrance hall where he had first stood with Ron and had been introduced to tight-lipped Professor McGonagall. 

Walking deliberately slow into the great hall, he took in the sight of the magnificent enchanted ceiling to the tables full of eating youths. Talking was subdued into whispers because the students had a suspicion of the oncoming war and were preparing themselves for it. But despite the unsettlement in the air, he sat down at the Gryffindor table watching the staff table and then gazed in wonder as owls swooped in through the windows, dropping a shower of letters and parcels. He remembered with sadness how he would get letters from Hagrid with invitations to go to his hut for tea, or a letter from dear snuffles. Then there was that day he received his first broomstick so long ago. His nimbus two thousand… He had been the youngest seeker of the century.

He had spent the rest of that one breakfast, memorizing every last thing about Ron and Hermione who sat across from him. To their hair color and reassuring, familiar voices, to their constant bickering, a slight small remained upon his lips the whole time he watched every move they made, down to the last habit.

All things around him had seemed to move in slow motion as he appreciated everything to its last essence. So many memories… His Hogwarts letter from Hagrid, his first Quidditch game, the Philosopher's Stone, The chamber of secrets, Fawkes the phoenix, potion classes, the shrieking shack, Sirius escaping on Buckbeak the hippogriff, Dementors, Hogsmeade, the tri-wizard championship, Cedric, his first kiss, Dumbledore's army.

It was only that late evening that Harry had asked Ginny to accompany on a secret walk outside on Hogwarts grounds. Taking the invisibility cloak with them so that the threat of being caught by Filch and Mrs. Norris was lessened, the duo had stolen away out into the crisp spring air. Harry caught the youngest Weasley's hand with his, his thumb grazing lightly over the top of her knuckles. Time was precious with the people he cared for most. Each minute, each second had to be appreciated for they would be Harry Potter's last. The only being's hand that Harry would be holding next was that of the angel of death. And when she did curl her frozen, shadowy fingers around his hand, there was no letting go… No turning back… 

The silence of their walk was broken.

"What's wrong, Harry?" She asked softly. Crashing back toward reality, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. In the moonlight, her eyes looked like pools of melted, liquid chocolate. Stopping for a moment in his stride, he let escape a sigh and reached over to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear as he set his calculating gaze upon her.  She had always told him everything, and now he had to hide like a coward. God, he wanted to tell her so bad. Tell her that they would no longer be together. Tell her that every moment they were sharing at that moment was like a breath of fresh air in his starving lungs. She met his gaze with open expression that told him directly what she was feeling there outside Hogwarts castle. After a moment of the two staring into one another, he spoke.

"Nothing, Ginny." He lied, feeling treacherous. However, she did not question him. She had learned over time that it was best to wait and let him talk when he needed too, rather then push him for answers. Ginny simply gave his hand a comforting squeeze and smiled pleasantly as they began to walk again. He forced himself to smile back, feeling more horrible that she accepted his lie even when it was evident that she did not believe him. She always did that. Instead of a query like Ron and Hermione would bring upon him, she would wait until he was ready to talk. And because of that, Harry loved her. 

The two walked peacefully under the veil of light from the moon which shone like a gleaming beacon in the velvet sea of stars. The school grounds were dark; the only light from that of the sky. In the distance, Harry could make out a small candle lit in the far away window of Hagrid's cabin. If the two listened real close, they could hear Hagrid making himself a brew of tea while talking to his boar hound Fang. 

Harry and Ginny walked in long steps up a grassy hill near the forbidden forest where flowers had bloomed in its wake upon the arrival of spring. Fanning out his Invisibility cloak, Harry laid down, cushioned by the fresh grass under the fabric. Opening his arms with invitation, Ginny lay down beside him, wrapping an arm over the top of his waist, her head lying in the crook of his arm. She sighed in content, burying her face into his shirt for a moment before looking up at the stars. Harry felt a peaceful smile play across his lips as he looked down at the top of her copper hued head. He could almost feel his heart settle tranquilly. Long had he felt weary in his life, but it was times like these with this young woman that he truly felt at peace. A peace in where he could actually rest away from the horrors of their world. He wanted to tell her this, but he wished not to break the silent communion that ran between them.

What he would do to be able to wake up every morning of a new dawn and have this blessing cradled next to him…

"Harry?..." She asked softly after several long minutes. Taking in a breath of fresh night air mingled with the intoxicating lavender scent of her hair, he closed his eyes.

"Hmm?...." He replied drowsily. Harry could feel the shift of her head off his arm, and then the weight of her gaze upon him. Opening one of his eyes, he spied her watching him. 

"Are you scared?..." Harry's eyes both opened at this question as he propped himself up onto his elbow to look at her closely. Her eyes were glowing in the darkness like a cat. A trait he was rather fond of. She was silent for a moment, as his fingers played idly with a lock of her red hair. Scared? Of course he was scared. Scared to die? No, he really wasn't. It was in death that he would finally be reunited with Lily and James Potter, and of course, his godfather Sirius Black. Was he scared to leave her and the others behind? Yes, so scared that he could feel it in his very bones like a cancer.

"Scared of what, Gin?" He queried gently. The question was really quite unnecessary but he only wanted to hear her voice again. Harry had decided long ago that he enjoyed the sound of her voice very much. Like bells… Very melodious, wonderful bells. She bit down on her lower lip for a second before answering. Whatever it was, it had most conspicuously been bothering her.

"Scared of… everything that's happening, I guess…" She answered uncertainly. A ghost of a sheepish smile appeared on her face after answering. Harry lay back down on his back, tugging her down beside him. When her head was comfortingly cushioned by his arm, he answered.

"I am scared a little…" He said. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Only a little?" She asked with hints of a smirk quirking at the corners of her mouth. Chuckling gently, he looked up at the sky stretching across the world. The stars twinkled and seemed to laugh down upon them. His free arm rose in the air and unconsciously traced the constellation of Sirius. It made him smile sadly to see that one shape so alive. Ginny sensed this and snuggled closer to the length of his body, her hair draping over his shoulder like a red cloak. 

"If you're asking that I'm scared of the possibility of death, then no, I'm not…" Harry answered finally, trying to push away the thoughts of Priscus Piaculum. He had tried with gusto to break away from feeling the emotions that had been harboring in his being, but they surfaced despite his attempts. Uncertainty… Lord, he was feeling uncertain of his decision to do the sacrifice. No, he could not! He had to do it! Uncertainty would be the loss of all hopes of Priscus Piaculum working. He had to defeat Voldemort once and for all. Too many had suffered already at the hands of the dark lord and he could not remain settled with it. Too many will suffer if he didn't do something. They will suffer because of him… She would suffer because of him….

At this thought, Harry turned over until he was hovering over Ginny's form, her back pressed into the fabric of his cloak while he supported the weight of his torso with his elbows. She smiled serenely, her fingers coming up to run through his savage, jet-black hair. He closed his eyes, trying to remember all the feelings running through him. Completion, pure elation, peace, happiness, desire and love… Sucking in a shaky breath as her hand trailed down his forehead to trace his scar, his eyes darkened into an obsidian emerald. She was smiling that joyful smile that he had come to adore over the years. God, what was death anyway when you got to have experienced feelings like this at least once in your life? He could have died right then but it would not have mattered in the very least.

Ducking his head, he captured her lips with his. All thoughts of uncertainly were immediately vanquished and replaced with that of an overwhelming sense of mutual completion. Her hands glided over his shoulders and rested behind his neck, fingers twirling through strands of untidy, ravenous hair. The weight of his chest gently pressed into hers, his mouth moving over hers with pulses of electric euphoria trailing throughout the lengths of their bodies, his heart singing with rejoice. She was soft, and sweet. One hand cupped the side of the column of her neck while the other was braced on the side of her body, mainly to keep himself from crushing her with his body mass. The scent of wild flowers mingled with lavender tickled his nostrils, making him smile into the kiss. She reciprocated, and laughed against his mouth. Soon the two broke away from each other, both breathless but still naturally laughing. 

Her eyes were shining as he looked down at her, lying among the wild flowers, her hair in a glowing pool around her head. She looked so beautiful that moment, and with a smile he ran the back of his hand down the contour of her cheek. She sighed with happiness and closed her eyes. And as he watched her, he realized something. Harry realized that his sacrifice was not just for the good of wizard and muggle kind and his friends, but also for her, the woman in his life. The woman he had wanted to someday marry and make happy at any cost. The woman he would perhaps want to start his own family with. The woman that would make him and Ron actual brothers. The woman that helped him find a part of himself that was supposedly lost. And lastly, a woman who gave him hope…

_He would die for Ginny, and for her, he would accept it…_

Was this what the sacrifice was all about? Was the truth behind self sacrifice not because the death of all fidelity, but because acceptance had given him an ever stronger hope for the people that he loved to continue living? Was this the answer to Priscus Piaculum? Perhaps Lily Potter had accepted death because she loved Harry… For him, she welcomed it with open arms, just as long as her precious baby boy remained safe and sound from the evils of the world. Her sacrifice had shielded the fingers of death threatening to grab at him that night when Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow. Like mother, like son, love would be their most powerful weapon. It would be their savior. 

Acceptance would save them all… 

He was doing it for Ginny, for Ron and Hermione, for Remus, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. He was doing it for Sirius and his parents, all of Hogwarts, and heck, he was even doing it for the ungrateful gits like Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. 

Remembering himself, he looked to her.

"Ginny?" He whispered. 

"Yes, Harry?..." 

"I _am_ scared…" He admitted, successfully answering her question from earlier. She turned onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so that she was looking down at him. Ginny titled her red-haired head with curiosity, a silent plea for him to go on gleaming alight in her calculating gaze. Feeling relieved that she would listen instead of speak, he continued, reliving part of his conversation with Remus.

"I'm scared that I'll loose everyone that I love because of me…" He said, his eyes searching the stars above him. Harry suddenly felt a hand on his cheek as she turned his face to look at her. She was smiling ever so slightly. That smile that showed so little but knew so much.

"Harry… The reason we die is not your fault, you must see that." She paused to brush away the hair upon his forehead so that she could trace his trademark scar again with meticulous care. Shivers raced down his spine like liquid fire from her delicate touch. "We don't die because of you, Harry, only for you…" She explained, all the while still running her fingers through his hair. Lips parting, Harry out a shaky breath, her words breathing over him again and again in a fluttering whisper. His heart was nearly soaring out from his chest as if sprouting wings like a golden snitch; it was thumping so fast. They are dying for me, not because of me… Again and again he repeated these words, unable to stop. 

People had died for him… His parents… Sirius… 

People _would_ die for him… 

But now, he would be able to return the promise… 

The parasite of uncertainly died within him almost at once and Ginny Weasley, sensing the peace she had brought upon him, closed her sleepy eyes into his side. Within moments, she had fallen asleep. Harry slowly turned his head down to gaze upon her, his fingers skimming across her cheek bone and into the rivulets of silky hair. She unconsciously sighed against the delicacy of his secret caress.

"I'll take care of you, Ginny. Ron had me promise him that I would, you know, but I don't think it will be a problem anymore. Not when I can watch over you from afar… That's one promise I know that I can keep…"

*******

                                                         _I believe that I may have finally accepted my fate…_

_                             And the funny thing is… I'm at peace with this doom, because now I can find my rest._

_                                                         Rest with the lingering of her love upon my skin, _

_                                   Just like my mother had done that one, fateful night when she was taken…                                                _

_                                                           Fate is unfair; it's cruel and at times inhumane_

_                                  But I finally know what sacrifice means, other than what it is in the eye of society_

_                                                             And suddenly, it's not so unfair anymore…_

*******

A/N: Er… well I hope you liked this chapter. Thanks too all those who reviewed me so far. I can understand the reluctance to start such a fic, but hey, who knows what might happen?


	4. Meeting

Wotcher, sorry it took me so long to come out with this chapter… I have had a heap of school assignments AND my computer had a virus so we had to delete everything off the hard drive. So you could imagine how I felt when all my saved writings were all erased.****Sob   

Anyway, thanks to those who gave me the reviews, thank you Loretta, GryphonMisstress, Puppy, NightWing509, mikey, lucugirl07, MordsithGoddess, A unwanted mind, PlasmaFyre, and katie janeway

By the way, the new trailers for Poa that have been coming out… screams in excitement and jumps out the window

                                                                                     _Chance_

_One last chance to couple the ties of bondage_

_One last chance to let ardent essences be mated_

_One last chance to let the unspoken be heard…_

_Chances are at times not taken of heed_

_And__ because of that, regret has been born from the womb of mortality…_

Chances can neither be forsaken nor neglected Because there is no turning back 

_                                                                             There is no again…_

A single bead of perspiration trailed down haggard, pallid white skin, leaving a stream of moisture in its wake. A trembling hand unconsciously swiped at the offending drop of sweat, its brother slowly tipping of ladle of asphodel into the eerily smoking cauldron boiling before him. The linear leaves of the white flower immediately were swallowed into the rough, forest green concoction, followed by a meticulous smattering of belladonna, otherwise known as deadly nightshade. The figure watched in fascination as the bubbling cauldron gave a smooth hiss and emitted a cloud from its ghostly mist. The cloud consisted of both black and white smoke, the gases mingling and battling for silent dominance. A wisp of a smile could be seen quirking at the corners of the figures parched lips as the white smoke was finally triumphant, forming a luminescent crown over the top of the potion.

Letting the cauldron simmer down into peace, he ran his thoughtful eyes back down the book passage staring back at him. Each word upon the page seemed to blink warily, a sign that the effects of the potion were taking toll. Rubbing a frustrated hand over the top of his drooping eyelids, he half fell into the wooden chair awaiting him. It creaked under the suddenness of his weight as he leaned back partially on its two back legs. The figure knew what was happening, but he was also un-doubtfully adamant about the choice he had added to his life's burden. But no… Not once would he feel regret. This chance had been handed to him, and he would be damned if he would take heeding of it.

The shadowy potion chambers in the pit of the dungeons below Hogwarts had drawn dark circles over the pale skin beneath his eyes, and he felt both mentally and physically weary. The potion was nearly completed, save one key ingredient to its success. Heaving a sigh, he turned away from the bubbling cauldron and left the chamber with a slam of the heavy door. It closed with a resounding bang that echoed off the cold, damp stonewalls. It was time to see the headmaster.

Walking silently up the vast staircases of the school, he came to halt at a large window. He leaned against the window frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

Turning his head to the right, he could see the sun spilling over the top of the mountains. The window from where he stood overlooked the towers below, and he watched with shrewd interest as the light of morning slithered along the castle walls, bathing each stone in its glow. But there was something almost sinister about that distinct glow as it poured into every corner and alcove of the school. A forewarning glow mixed with hues of blood red. A red dawn had arisen with the sun that dawn, along with the lives that had been taken during the shade of night.

The time had come…

He was coming… The adversary and his plight… But they would be ready…

One last sunrise before the end…

One last day…

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Harry Potter walked in long, quick strides through the vast, myriads of corridors that were Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Close on his heels were the three Gryffindors, all running in their haste to catch up with The Boy who lived. None of them spoke for there were whispers of bad omens floating among the saturated air like bacteria. It was that that very morning that Harry had awoken to find Hedwig hooting loudly from the headboard of his four-poster bed. She had a letter tied to her leg, and after relieving his snowy familiar from its burden with a token of owl treats, Harry tore open the wax seal of the Hogwarts crest.

Harry,

If you would be so kind, as to please join me in my office after breakfast, it would be most appreciated. Your companions are more than welcome to come along for this attains to them as well. It is imperative that you be discreet.

                                                                                                       -Albus Dumbledore

P.S. The password to the office is Tickle Trifle, a most praiseworthy new sweet courtesy of Fred and George Weasley, if I do say so myself.

The letter from the headmaster lay folded in the safe pit of his trousers pocket as he continued on his way toward Dumbledore's office, shoulders tense. He knew precisely what was to be said when they got there, and it was something that he had not wanted to be spoken aloud for all to hear. When the words were uttered, then it would all be final. It would make them wonder what Harry was to do. But that was one secret he had no intention of telling.

This really was it… His last day beneath the stone fortress of his first home. He really was not quite sure how he felt about it to be perfectly honestly either. Ever since he had awoken that morning, Harry Potter had been caught up in a distracting haze of mixed feelings. And a planned meeting with Dumbledore only seemed to further muddle up what was left of his awareness. Hermione had sensed this at breakfast and gave him a sobering charm. It helped, but only just. Determined to keep a straight, properly working head for the meeting, Harry walked faster. Ron gave a grunt of agitation from behind him as his best mate sped up yet again.

Ginny was walking beside him, her red hair drawing a curtain around her features. Occasionally their shoulders would brush together, or their fingers would sweep across one another's knuckles in whispered, secretive caresses. His thoughts drifted to just last night when they slept upon the hillside, her cradled like a child against him. It was cherishing… She seemed to be sharing mutual thoughts because she looked up at him carefully from behind her hair, her face tinted pink. He nearly chuckled at that, but settled for giving her a slight smile, a thousand words behind the pulling of his lips. She could only smirk and bump the side of her hip to his as they continued to walk. Anyone watching them now would only see two people, two Gryffindor friends, walking side by side. But to the sharp eyed, it was more than what it seemed. And it was the feelings that sparked like magic between them, which Harry would take with him when leaving the world behind.

Struggling in vain to push those resounding thoughts away, he quickened his walking once more. But the Boy who Lived could not help but let his mind drift back to a dream he had last night. It was a dream that spoke endless meanings, but he had a good idea of what it was that he saw. Harry could remember sounds of war, both jet of magic light and the clashing of metal swords. He had been standing amidst a battle, unseen and unnoticed. All around him were wizards dressed in proud navy blue garb, sheaths and wand holsters at their armored waists. It had been so real, every cry, every scream… The regiment was waging their war against a legion of black cloaked phantoms, an army of its own sweeping down the mountainside with abomination. He could almost smell the bitterness of torn and burnt flesh, and even shed blood. Then it had happened, like some distant memory of his past. Wizards raising their wands into the air above their heads in unison, their mouths all uttering the same fateful words… Ego Proventus Mei Piaculum

Light… Light like Harry had never before seen. Light came from the velvet skied heavens like rain, and pelted upon their crested heads, their ignited wands gleaming like fallen stars. Even in his dream. Harry had to shield his eyes as every shadow of the world seemed to melt into nothingness against this blinding light. Each wizard blurred into silhouettes, the godly luminescence tearing through their corporal forms, mirrored against Harry's glasses lenses. He could hear a rising chorus of blood-curdled screams as Priscus Piaculum, the salvage of balance, stole through their regiments, robbing each soldier of life. The light gave a last gasp before twisting into ethereal tendrils at the end of each raised wand before disappearing.

The smoke had cleared and at last, Harry could see the battlefield… All was silent; all voices had spoken their last… There he stood upon the hill of still bodies, eagled eyes staring unblinkingly, unseeingly at him. And then, a single tear ran down his cheek as he himself fell back to lay among the bed of the dead, his body cushioned by the mound of frozen stone limbs…

He had woken from the perturbing dream to find himself still lying upon the grass of the hillside in a trembling, cold sweat, but with a peaceful Ginny curled beside him. Harry did not fall asleep again that night, but instead, looked up at the heavens, visions of blinding light plaguing his mind.

No use in thinking about all this rubbish, he thought to himself

Finally approaching the stone gargoyles guarding the headmaster's office, Harry gave the password. They jumped aside and the four walked through. His friends seemed to share the same feelings of dread that they knew was to come with this meeting because each had open expressions. Ginny was wringing at the folds of her black school robes while constantly biting down upon her bottom lip with inner turmoil. Hermione was uncharacteristically fidgeting from behind him; her bushy brown hair even more frazzled and frizzy while it swallowed up the air around them like a sponge. Lastly, Ron was running a quivering hand through his own flaming red locks, mussing it up to no redemption where it might rival that of Harry's.

"Please enter!" Came the reply when Harry knocked upon the large door. Inhaling deeply, his hand twisted the door handle and they burst in. The voices that had been speaking before they came in all grew silent.

There were faces everywhere. Harry looked around in bewilderment to see all of the Order of the Phoenix staring shrewdly back at him, accompanied with the familiar faces of the Hogwarts teaching staff. They were seated in a circle of chairs that was arranged in the center of the office, the headmaster sitting at the very head of it. It reminded him briefly of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Albus Dumbledore was the sight of a wizened, old wizard with a gleaming silver beard and neatly folded hands upon his midnight blue robed lap. Even from the door, Harry Potter, could see that familiar twinkle in the headmaster's eyes.

Dumbledore's office suddenly seemed too small for Harry's liking as each pair of eyes trained on him. Sensing his friend's mutual discomfort, judging by their faces, he opened his mouth to speak but was beat to it.

"Harry, good of you and your company to join us. Please do sit down," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand toward four empty chairs among the circle. Sharing a glance with the others, Harry entered the circle and they lowered themselves into the waiting chairs. Remus, who was sitting across from him looking very old, gave him a rigid nod. Fighting against the urge to wince as he thought of their argument, he averted his eyes. He sincerely hoped that the dear werewolf would not choose this meeting to reveal his secret to defeating the dark lord. If they found out, then he knew that he would never be able to go through with it. He could not turn back…

Tonks, who sat beside Remus with bubblegum pink hair that would surely baffle Aunt Petunia, gave him a hearty wink. From across the circle, she conspicuously mouthed to him "Wotcher, Harry!" Harry smiled in retaliation, glad that her simple grin could help lighten the tension that plagued them all that day. Nevertheless, he knew one thing for sure. Her grin would most likely not be able to lessen the pain that would be beckoned with the inevitable words to come.

Next to Tonks sat the war torn form of Mad-Eye Moody lounging in his chair. Harry felt a deep sense of trepidation gather nauseously in his gut as he found the old Auror's artificial magic eye settled on him. That eye could probably analyze every thought inside his head, namely the ones about 'Priscus Piaculum'. But, when he met Moody's gaze again, there was an emotion silhouetted in those dark eyes. An emotion that he had currently come to terms just that night while Ginny Weasley slept in his arms with blissfully ignorant dreams. Acceptance… A hard smile turned up the corners of Harry's lips as he nodded at Moody. Surely, Alastor Moody understood the heart of a soldier. He did not need a magic eye for that. He understood that if a soldier were to willing to fight for something, die for something, then by no means would anything hinder him down the road of judgment. Even if reckless sacrifice was the only path he had left to take. Mad-Eye accepted Harry's decision, just as he accepted the fact that he had only one leg.

The relief that had been harbored with Moody's comprehension was quickly relinquished to smoldering anger as his magnificent green eyes locked with the Potion Master's Severus Snape. Well, no worries, you greasy git, I'll be out of your way soon enough.

Snape regarded him coolly, his infamous lip slightly curling into his trademark sneer. Hatred bubbled within, and Harry had to grip the arms of his chair with white knuckles. The two enemies dare not look away from one another, a silent battle of wits passing an invisible line of communication. The tension was broken, however, when he felt a warm hand slide over his arm in comfort. He ended his glare with Snape to see Ginny gazing at him from the corner of her eye, her fingers gliding soothingly across his forearm in slow strokes. Breathing deeply, he returned her wisp of smile and finished nodding his greetings to the other members of the circle, including Mr. And Mrs. Weasley whom looked fit to jump from her chair and envelop him in a hug. But hello's were stiff to say the least, each being struggling with the inner demons that had developed over the past and current events of war. There was a few moments of silence, save for the murmuring of the portraits, before the Headmaster spoke.

"I'd like to first thank everyone for taking the time to attend this meeting," Dumbledore began in a soft but strong voice as he gazed at each person in his surrounding over the top of his half-moon spectacles. In return, some of the Order tipped their hats to him.

"Second, I would like to personally thank everyone for his or her efforts these past two years. These times have been hard, the casualty's great…" The members of Dumbledore's circle bowed their heads for a moment, a whisper of a name passing their lips. Names of those whom they have lost…

"For almost three years now, the second war with Voldemort has been upon us," Dumbledore paused at the sharp intake of breath from several people at the uttering of the dark lords name. Not for the first time, Harry found himself rolling his eyes in exasperation at the reaction the simple name caused. This was what Tom Riddle wanted when renaming himself the dark lord. He intended to create a name that would plague all persons with stricken fear, and by being frightened, Voldemort had already achieved his victory.

"And for almost three years now, we have been fighting this war, not understanding where it is taking us or what side will be victorious." Harry felt himself slightly leaning forward in his chair, a breath wedged tightly up in his chest. Apparently, he was not the only one to be drawn into the power of the headmaster's words because all persons of the room mirrored identical expressions.

"But things, as you all well know, must come to an end, and it seems our wait will abruptly do just that. Voldemort will wage his war, and he will strike quick and swift. He will attempt siege upon Hogwarts." Dumbledore explained gravely and Harry felt his scar give a twinge of pain at the words. Loud murmuring broke out among the circle. Hermione's hand flew over her mouth in horror and her other clamped down upon Ron's arm in a vice grip. He could only squeeze back. Ginny put a hand to her forehead, her brows wrinkling.

"Attempt siege, Albus? Are you sure?" Professor McGonagall asked with a hand over her chest. All the Hogwarts teaching staff was whispering in distress as they were told that the school they had come to call their home would be turned into a battlefield in only a day. How would the stone castle withhold against the forces of Voldemort and his legion of death eaters? Hogwarts was a refuge in renown for keeping students safe within its protective barriers, but how long would that remain? Would the great school be breached and all children, down to the last first year, be unwillingly forced into a war zone? Would their lives be at risk? Harry continued to watch Dumbledore as the old man waited for the voices around him to fall silent once more. But, The Boy who lived could only just realize how heavy of a burden this was for him. Here was a wizard whose beloved school and students would be thrust into the final plunge, the end. For years, this one man had been protecting each and every one of them from the shadows of danger that lingered near. For years, he had drawn his veil of salvation over the school but in only one day, one night; it would be cast away and smote into ruin.

Danger would hunt them down… Hunt them down, as a hound would stalk his quarry.

Innocence would be tainted…

"I'm afraid that it is true, Minerva, Voldemort is coming, and he will not be stopped from doing so…" Dumbledore leaned heavily back into his chair, his long silver beard seemingly wilting in the light of the sun like a dying flower denied of its only restorative An outbreak of hushed voices and hisses arose, but to Harry it felt like a drum beating relentlessly behind his forehead. Looking momentarily towards the window, he was dismayed to find that the sun had hidden behind the clouds, casting the office into an ominous shadow. The baneful shade depicted each stunned face floating around him to appear gaunt and withered with the decay of age. This war had aged them, in one way or another.

"How much time do we have before it begins?" Snape asked unexpectedly, his shrewd voice already getting to the point of the meeting. His sallow pale face grew more pallid if that was possible, and the circles beneath his eyes looked black in contrast with his paleness. Dumbledore drew in a deep breath before answering. A mental stab plunged through Harry's gut like a knife delivering the final blow as the headmasters next words came.

"At the most, two days…"

Harry covered half of his face with a hand as a deathly silence filled the air.

A great triumphant shot of pain burst through his lightening bolt-carved scar causing Harry's eyes to fly open and muffle a shuddery breath. He was happy… he was anticipating…

We will win…

Tense fingers were suddenly weaving through his, and he discovered Ginny, her face turned upward to the ceiling above, her features that of determination and resolution. Such valor stirred in her amazing brown eyes that renown would have already raised to its mighty throne above the Weasley name and honor. No longer was she the unseen shadow of seven, nor the child who wept upon the damp, stone floors of the Chamber of Secrets. Before him sat a young woman, a vibrant, strong being who would not be doubted or held back. She would soar… She was the eagle swooping across the heavens, flying through the myriads of stars and realms like a spirit of wild abandon, no longer kept, no longer stilled. And Harry realized that for the second time he would be right along with her among the clouds and endless miles, an invisible hand clutching hers as their golden white wings merged into one essence.

He should have told her right then that he loved her…

But the words lost themselves within his throat and his fingers tightened around hers. "Harry…" was the only thing she could whisper in return. Their eyes met in a split moment of intensity, brown and green, fire and ash…

A hissed call of his name broke him out of their reverie, and looking across the circle of ghostly figures; Ron and Hermione were peering at him sharply.  He knew instantly what they had concluded. Harry Potter had known of this battle and did not tell them, he had been holding back on them again. However, when he glanced back at his two best friends, he was not expecting the bright loyalty to be shining behind their steady gazes like mirrors of Ginny's. In was in that one second of all their seven years that Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had selflessly pledged themselves to him. The two were forsaking any future that they had found and hoped in each other to go to the end for their friend.

To the ends of this world, they would go for this one young man…

The trio shared a whisper of smiles. That, Harry knew was enough to seal their bonds.

"Headmaster, are you quite sure your sources in which you received this information are entirely accurate? After all, residing in the dark lord's inner circle would give me indication that the dark lord would be attacking Hogwarts, am I right?" Queried Snape, one of his dark eyebrows rising dubiously into an arch. Harry could have sworn that he heard Ron mumble 'great git' under his breath. At the potion master inquiry, the twinkle seemed to have been rekindled like a glittering flame in Dumbledore's eyes. He raised a long crooked finger and wagged it.

"Ah, but Severus, my sources come within this very circle, and I assure you, they are quite faithful…" and with that, he waved a hand for someone to stand.

A tall figure dressed in eccentric maroon robes and impossible large glasses stood. A series of snorts came from the circle as Professor Trelawney drew up to her full height, her attempt at appearing mysterious not succeeding in the least. Snape's lip curled into a twisted sneer like the Cheshire cat and he leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs. His position seemed to say, "You have got to be kidding me…"

"Albus, surely you have acquired a more veracious source than Sybil? Her 'inner eye' has proved to be blind if not existing at all…" McGonagall alleged. Harry casually coughed to smother his laughter at the expression that formed on the divination professor's face. Ron gave a loud snort but was silenced by a quick slap to the wrist by Hermione whom Harry noted was failing to suppress a very Slytherinish smirk. Ginny was silently shaking with mirth beside him, all signs of somberness from the meetings revelation forgotten, if not, only for a moment. He also gladly noticed that most persons in the room seemed to have momentarily forgotten the seriousness of the day.

Meanwhile, Trelawney gave a great huff and her hands flew to her hips.

"I'll have you know, Minerva, that my sight is neither blinded nor non existent but simply…" She paused for a long dramatic moment to find the right word. "Muddled…" She said finally. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to retort but the 'seer' spoke again.

"But looking beyond this block in my path, the Grim runs at liberty for many of you all…" She howled loudly, her arms rising above her head. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks. There was a frustrated growl and then Hermione was speaking.

"Oh for goodness sake! How many times are you going to mention that silly grim? It's completely ludicrous!" She exclaimed, hot on her feet. The Professor whirled around to advance on Hermione and shook a finger at her. She nearly tripped on her many scarves trailing to the carpet.

"Now see here, Ms. Granger, every witch and wizard to some extent can un-fog their futures, but I feel forced to comply that you are an exception! Your pretentious attributes have clearly blinded your aura!" Professor Trelawney cried with wide eyes. Harry, Ron, and Ginny distinctly pushed their chairs back a few inches as the scalding heat of Hermione's wrath reared its ugly head.

"Pretentious?!" Echoed Hermione shrilly.

All heads in the circle turned back and forth in a harmonic rhythm from Trelawney to Hermione and back again. The only person who seemed to enjoy the argument as much as Ron was Snape who looked ready to burst into a fit of uncharacteristic laughter, his sneer was so odious.

"I'll have you know that-!" Coming to a halt, Hermione's cheeks flamed red as she became aware of the current situation of her standing amidst the center of people having a blazing row with one of her former professors. Dumbledore who had remained quiet during the whole exchange had laughter flashing in his wizened eyes and it gladdened Harry's heart. At last, the bushy-haired Gryffindor sunk back into her chair and turned her embarrassed face into Ron's shoulder, who was grinning cheekily.

"Now that Sybil and Ms. Granger are quite done…" Began the headmaster with the wisp of a chuckle and mischievous eyes. Harry almost cleared his throat, as all amusement floating above their heads seem to deplete in a single burst of silence.

"Sybil, please do tell us what your eye had seen in the company of Mr. Potter," Said Dumbledore. All eyes turned curiously onto Harry and he could have sunk through his chair with the weight of their sharp, calculating gazes. Remus gave an unconscious cough and looked away, his fingers tightening around his kneecaps.

"It was most extraordinary… It was a week ago and young Mr. Potter was in my presence taking his final exam when he took my palm to read it. To pass the sublime calling that is Divination, the student is to read my palm and examine my lifeline." Professor McGonagall conspicuously rolled her eyes at this.

"With any luck, it won't be long…" Joked Ron softly so that only Hermione could hear.

"Mr. Potter had just taken my hand when suddenly… There were voices…" She whispered, her eyes looking positively large behind her glasses. The people around the circle exchanged looks. Brilliant, now she's hearing voices… The bat is going to make me look completely mad Harry thought to himself darkly. Fifth year had been enough and frankly, he did not want his final day alive to be thought of as some rabid boy escaped from St. Mungos.

"The voices… like whispers of the deceased, and they ran thus… 'Six days remain before the serpent shall coil and strike… The fortress of the phoenix shall stand in grave peril, but the lion stands not alone and shall shepherd his regiment…'"

Harry finally opened his eyes under the light of the sun. The silence was thick, and you could almost hear students filtering through the corridors below. Professor Trelawney had sat down and like both the Order of the Phoenix and the teaching staff, turned her eyes onto him. Ginny's hand upon his forearm tightened, and Ron and Hermione seemed to be looking at him in an almost frightened sense and light. No one dare breathe, that is, except Snape.

"I take it that you already knew about this, Potter?" Asked Snape sardonically. Harry felt his lips tighten into a thin line. He could only nod.

"And since it is so obvious that you are the one this 'prophet' speaks of," At this, Snape wagged his Quote fingers. Professor Trelawney opened her mouth to retort but the smirking potions master continued. "Then you already perceive how to defeat the dark lord?" He further queried, all the while, the monstrous smile had not left his white lips. Again, Harry nodded firmly but gasps of surprise arose from the group. Hermione let out an exclamation of "Harry!" while Ron's mouth opened and moved soundlessly. Ginny showed no sign of what was said except for the slow closing of her eyes, but Harry could almost see the pain of recognition behind her eyelids.

Snape looked mildly amused. He leaned back in his chair with the stealth of a cat.

"Oh? How so?"

Harry sat rooted to the spot like a deer caught in headlights as all waited expectantly for any sort of answer that would give them insight or comfort as to how he would be defeating the dark lord. Remus was leaning forward in his seat, his face tight with anticipation, a hope that Harry would confess bright in his weary eyes. But when no words passed through his lips, Snape got up from his chair and swept across the circle in a swirl of black robes. In a matter of moments, he was leaning close to Harry's face, his white, spidery fingers clutching at the arms of Harry's chair. So close was their faces that both noses nearly touched. Black met with Green. Both men did not look away and the Boy who lived refused to back down from the silent challenge in his potion professor's eyes. To eyes, it seemed as though James Potter and Severus Snape were staring back at one another, enemy to enemy.

"So, you are going to lead us then, are you? The great Potter, a captain of war?" He sneered. Harry's eyes narrowed into slits and his jaw hardened. "Tell me, Potter, are you going to lead us to an untimely end before the breaking of dawn? Are you going to allow the dark lord to purge the world of every life in his path at getting to you? Sounds familiar? Oh, because I guarantee you, he will not be stopped until you are wasted… Wasted and dead…" He hissed, strings of black hair falling into a curtain in front of his eyes.

Mrs. Weasley was suddenly on her feet, pointing a long, accusing finger at Snape.

"Don't you dare speak to Harry like that? Don't you dare!" She shrilled furiously, her voice shaking. Arthur was trying effortlessly to usher his distraught wife back into a chair, whispering softly into her ear. She gave a quiet sob from behind the hand she had clamped over her mouth. Harry felt as though someone had stabbed him through the gut as he watched the woman whom became his only mother suffered once more because of him. It had to stop. It had to end.

Snape said nothing, nor appeared surprised by her outburst. He simply turned back to Harry.

"No, Mrs. Weasley, he's right…" He spoke up finally.  "Voldemort won't stop until I'm dead, that's why I have to defeat him." He said softly. Ginny smiled softly, an invisible offer of faith passing from her to him. He readily accepted it, and spoke again in a clearer voice.

"I know what has to be done, and I'll do it." As those words were uttered, a strong sense of awe and admiration arose in the hearts of witch and wizard alike.

A brief moment of silence passed before Snape sat himself back in his chair scowling darkly at the carpet.

"Preparations have already been made to assure the safety of the schools students if Hogwarts walls should fall. But, Evacuation will only be necessary if that should happen. I do not want to risk lives by letting students astray in a war zone away from safety. Students who are of age will be allowed to follow into battle if they choose so, or remain behind with the younger children." Said Dumbledore.

"Alastor, you will alert Amelia Bones and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You are to prepare the Magical Law enforcement Squad and the Aurors to be ready for the signal at midday. The Wizengamot has already been notified and will have set their affairs in order," Moody growled in what served as a "Yes, Sir" before limping out of the office, the sound of his peg leg rapping against the floor resounding loudly. When Mad-eye left, the headmaster turned toward Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, if you would please go down to the kitchens and seek out a certain house elf by the name of Dobby? He will provide you with the necessary information concerning the evacuation routes leading off Hogwarts grounds. Also, be sure to owl The Three Broomsticks and Madam Rosmerta explaining the need that Hogsmeade be shut down and emptied. All shop owners are insisted to remain behind school borders for their own safety," He directed, nodding to the stern Transfiguration professor. McGonagall did not waste time as she jumped from her chair and left the office, a willowy cat tail being seen before disappearing behind the large door. Lastly, he turned to Arthur Weasley.

"Arthur, we will need you to message the Department of Magical Transportation. All apparate zones within boundaries of Hogsmeade station will need to desist. This will provide us more time to prepare ourselves and will stall Voldemorts arrival because he will not be able to apparate in or out of here. The floo network authorities will of course have to be informed also."

Mr. Weasley nodded solemnly and slowly got up from his chair, reluctantly parting from his wife whom was crying silent tears. "No tears, Molly dear, I'll be back before you know it," He whispered, wiping some tears from Molly's face. After, he embraced each redheaded member of the family settled within the circle, lingering only slightly longer on his youngest and only daughter. Harry gazed on sadly as Ginny clung to her father with tight fingers, her face buried into the front of his robes as his hand smoothed over her hair.  When she detached herself from him, Ginny sat down and ran the back of her hand over her eyes.

Arthur stopped lastly onto Harry and looked down at him with something that was akin to pride. It was a look that James Potter would no doubt have shining brightly in his eyes had he been the one to look down upon his son. Harry felt a painful breath lodge itself in his throat as he held forward a hand for the Father Weasley to shake. But the intensity of the breath within his lungs only intensified as Mr. Weasley ignored the offered hand and pulled his form into an embrace.  The feeling of being crushed against warm robes that smelt like The Burrow overwhelmed him, and the held in breath was released in a shudder that shook his whole body. Was this how it felt to be hugged by a Dad? He wondered.

They drew apart, but not before Mr. Weasley smiled down at Harry. The boy who lived returned it and watched the man go, already knowing unconsciously that that would be the last time he ever laid eyes upon Arthur Weasley.

When the door slammed, Dumbledore stood up from his chair and stood tall against the light filtering through the clouds outside the window. His next sentence came out in a soft voice.

"You are all dismissed. I suggest that you use this evening for what it's worth…" He whispered, his eyes finding Harry's over the heads of the people preparing to leave the office.

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A/N: ARG! Sorry that took soooooo long to come out because of the computer virus, my school work, and I apologize that the chapter was not nearly as good as I hoped it would be. But, I hoped you enjoyed it nonetheless. POA is coming!

R&R!

Cheers!


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